THE CAMP IN THE HAYMOW.
"There's a farmhouse over yonder, Thad; and night's coming on pretty fast
now!" called out Davy Jones later on, after the expedition had covered
several more miles of ground, and seemed to be descending an incline that
would very likely shortly take them to the bank of the winding
Susquehanna.
"I hope we decide to bunk in a haymow, and not out in the open to-night,"
added Step Hen. "Not having any tents along makes it a poor business
trying to keep off the rain, if she should drop in on us. How about it,
Thad?"
"I reckon, suh, we're all of one mind there," remarked Bob White.
"Just as you say, boys," Thad announced. "We'll turn in here, and see if
the farmer will allow us to camp in his barnyard."
"And mebbe he might sell us a couple of fat chickens, and some fresh milk
or cream to go with our coffee. That would be about as fine as silk, I'm
telling you," and Giraffe, who had rejoined his comrades, looking just
the same as ever, rubbed his stomach as he said this, by that means
implying that the prospect pleased him even more than words could tell.
Accordingly the line of march was changed. They abandoned the road, and
started up the lane that led to the farmhouse. A watchdog began barking
furiously, and at the sound several people came out of the house, and the
big barn as well; so that while the scouts had clustered a little closer
together, as though wishing to be ready for an attack, they knew there
was now nothing to fear.
Three minutes later and they were talking with the grizzled farmer, his
good wife, a couple of girls, and the stout young hired help named Hiram,
all of whom were fairly dazzled by the sight of eight khaki-clad young
fellows, some of whom carried shotguns, grouped in their dooryard.
Thad explained that they were a patrol of Boy Scouts from Cranford, on a
hike, and not having tents along with them, made bold to ask the farmer
if they might sleep in his haymow, and cook their supper in the open
space before the barns.
There was something inviting about Thad Brewster's manner that drew most
people toward him. That same farmer might have been tempted to say no
under ordinary conditions, for he looked like a severe man; but somehow
he was quite captivated by the manly appearance of these lads. Besides,
he had doubtless read considerable about the activities of the scouts,
and felt that the chance of hearing something concerning them at first
hand was too good to be lost.
"I ain't got the least objection to you boys sleeping in my hay, if you
promise me not to light matches, or do any smokin' there," he said.
"I'll look out for that, sir," replied Thad promptly, "and we all promise
you that there will be no damage done from our staying over. We will want
to make a cooking fire somewhere, but it can be done at a safe distance
from the barn, and to leeward, so that any sparks will go the other way."
"And if so be you could spare us a couple of chickens, mister," put in
Giraffe, "we'd be glad to pay you the full market price; as also for any
milk or cream or eggs you'd let us have."
"Oh! you can fix that with the missus," returned the farmer; "she runs
that end of the farm. I look after the crops and the stock. Now, if you
wanted a four-hundred-pound pig I've got a beauty to offer you."
"Thanks, awfully," returned Step Hen quickly, giving Giraffe, who was a
big eater, a meaning look; "but I reckon we're well supplied in that way
already."
Arrangements were quickly made with the farmer's wife, and under charge
of the willing Hiram, who never could get over staring at the uniforms of
the scouts with envy in his pale eyes, some of the boys gave chase to a
couple of ambitious young roosters that were trying their first crow on a
nearby fence, finally capturing and beheading the same.
Thad meanwhile accompanied the good woman to her dairy, and returned with
a brimming bucket of morning's milk, as well as a pitcher of the thickest
yellow cream any of them had ever gazed upon.
The girls brought out some fresh eggs, and altogether the sight of so
much riches caused Giraffe to smile all over.
Giraffe was the acknowledged leader when it came to making fires, and
that duty as a rule devolved upon him. He had made a particular study of
the art, and in pursuing his hobby to the limits was able to get fire at
his pleasure, whether he had a match or not. And in more than a few times
in the past this knowledge had proved very useful to the tall scout, as
the record in previous stories concerning the doings of the Silver Fox
Patrol will explain.
Accordingly Giraffe had chosen to make a neat little fireplace out of
smooth blocks of stone which happened to lie handy. This he had built at
the spot selected by Thad as perfectly safe; for what little wind there
was would blow the sparks in a direction where they could do no possible
damage.
When Hiram came back he forgot all about any chores that might be
waiting. Never before had he been given such a glorious chance to witness
the smart doings of Boy Scouts. He observed everything Giraffe did when
he made that cunning little out-of-doors cooking range, and noted that
while the double row of stones spread wide apart at one end, just so the
big frying pan would set across, they drew much closer at the other
terminus, like the letter V, so that the coffee pot could be laid there
without spilling.
Then Giraffe started his fire. Hiram noticed how he picked certain kinds
of wood from the abundant supply over at the chopping block. Giraffe
liked to be in the lime light; and he was also an accommodating chap. He
saw that the farmhand was intensely interested, as well as quite green at
all such things; but the fact of his "wanting to know" was enough to
start the scout to imparting information.
So he told Hiram how certain kinds of wood are more suitable for cooking
purposes, since they make a fierce heat, and leave red ashes that hold
for a long time; and it is over such a bed that the best cooking can be
done, and not when there is more or less flame and smoke to interfere.
Allan and Davy had been very busy plucking the fowls during this time,
while Bumpus busied himself getting some fresh water from the well near
by, and fixing the coffee ready to go on the fire when Giraffe gave the
word that he was prepared.
One of the girls brought a loaf of fresh homemade bread, and a roll of
genuine country butter that was as sweet as could be. Fancy with what
impatience those boys waited while supper was being cooked. The odors
that arose when the cut-up chicken was browning in the pan along with
some slices of salt pork, and the coffee steaming on one of the stones
alongside the fire, made a combination that fairly set several of the
fellows wild, so that they had to walk away in order to control
themselves.
Finally the welcome signal was given by Bumpus, and never had those
silver notes of the "assembly" sounded sweeter in mortal ears than they
did that night in the barnyard of that Susquehanna farm, with the eight
khaki-clad scouts sitting on logs, and any other thing that offered, and
every inmate of the farmhouse gathered near by to watch operations.
They had a feast indeed, and there was plenty for every one and to spare.
Indeed, Hiram had accepted the invitation of Giraffe to hold off supper,
and join them, and the big fellow seemed to be enjoying his novel
experience vastly, if one could judge from the broad grin that never once
left his rosy face.
After the meal was over they found seats, and as the fire sparkled and
crackled merrily Thad told them all that he possibly could about the aims
and ambitions of the scout movement. He found a very attentive and
appreciative audience; and it was possible that seeds were planted in the
mind of Hiram on that occasion calculated to bear more or less good fruit
later on in his life.
Of course Thad had to explain to some extent why they were so far away
from home, and this necessitated relating the story about the old army
overcoat that had been turned over to a tramp through the desire of the
judge's second wife to get rid of it. Thad of course only went so far as
to say that the judge mourned the loss of an article which he really
valued highly on account of its association with his only son's army life
years before; and he made out such a strong case that those who heard the
story could easily understand why the gentleman should wish to recover
the garment again, if it were possible.
None of them could remember having seen any party wearing such a coat;
and it would seem that if the hobo had passed along that way, he might
have applied at the farmhouse for a meal, though the presence of the dog
usually deterred those of his kind from bothering the good farm wife.
"Guess they've got the chalk mark on your gate post, mister," commented
Step Hen, when he heard this; "I've been told these hoboes leave signs
all along the way for the next comer to read. Some places they say are
good for a square meal; then at another place you want to look sharp, for
the farmer's wife will ring pies on you that are guaranteed to break off
a tooth in trying to bite 'em. Now, like as not there's a sign on your
post that says: 'Beware of the dog; he's a holy terror!'"
"I hope there is," replied the farmer; "and if I knew what it was I'd see
it got on every post I own, for if there's one thing I hate it's a tramp.
I've had my chickens stolen, my hogs poisoned, and my haymow out in the
pasture burned twice by some of that worthless lot. They kind of know me
by now, and that I ain't to be trifled with."
The evening passed all too quickly; and when Step Hen happened to mention
that Bumpus was the possessor of a beautiful soprano voice of course the
country girls insisted that he entertain them. Bumpus, as has been
remarked before, was an accommodating fellow, and he allowed himself to
be coaxed to sing one song after another, with all of them joining in the
chorus, until he was too hoarse to keep it up. Then they spied his lovely
silver-plated bugle, and nothing would do but he must sound all the army
calls he knew, which added to the enjoyment considerably.
Taken in all, that was the most novel entertainment any of them had ever
experienced; and especially those who lived in the lonely farmhouse. It
must have been a tremendous and pleasant break in the monotony that
usually hangs like a pall upon all farm work. No wonder, Thad thought,
all of them looked so happy when they were bidding the boys good night,
and admitted that they had enjoyed the coming of the expedition greatly.
Hiram could not be "pried loose," as Giraffe said. He insisted on seeing
all he could of these new and remarkable friends, and had announced his
intention of accompanying the scouts to the hay, and sleeping near them.
No one offered the least objection. Indeed, by this time, after such an
exhausting march as they had been through since sun-up, all of them were
pretty tired, and their one thought was to snuggle down in the hay, with
their blankets wrapped around them, and get some sleep.
"Still cloudy and threatening," remarked Allen, as he and Thad took a
last look around ere turning in.
"Yes, it's holding off in a queer way," replied the other, "but when it
does hit us, look out for a downpour. I'd be glad if we ran on that
Wandering George before the rain starts in, because it'll be hard getting
around when the whole country is soaked and afloat."
"I'm told the river is already close to flood stage, owing to so much
snow melting at headwaters," observed Allan.
"Yes, we had an unusual lot last winter, you remember; and when the
weather turned actually hot a few days back it must have started the snow
melting at a furious rate. If we get a hard rain now there'll be a
whopping big flood all along the Susquehanna this spring."
"Everything seems all right around here, doesn't it?" asked Allan, as he
bent down over Giraffe's fireplace, with the caution of a hunter who knew
how necessary it always is to see that no glowing embers have been
forgotten that a sudden wind could carry off to cause a disastrous
conflagration.
"I saw Giraffe throw some water over the coals," remarked Thad. "He loves
a fire better than anyone I know, but you never find him neglecting to
take the proper precautions. Yes, it's cold to the touch. Let's hunt a
place to bunk for the night, Allan. With our blankets, a bed in the soft
hay ought to feel just prime."
Nine of them burrowed into the big haymow, with all sorts of merry
remarks, and a flow of boyish badinage. Finally they began to get settled
in their various nooks and the talking died down until in the end no one
said a single word, and already Bumpus and perhaps several others began
to breathe heavily, thus betraying the fact that they had passed over the
border of dreamland.
Thad of course had more to think about than most of his mates, because,
as the patrol leader, and head of the present expedition, he found
problems to study out that did not present themselves to such
happy-go-lucky fellows as Bumpus, Step Hen, Davy, and perhaps Giraffe. So
Thad lay there for quite some time, thinking, and trying to lay out some
plan of campaign to be followed in case the expected rain did strike them
before they came up with the fugitive tramp.
It was very comfortable, and the hay was sweet-smelling, so that even the
fastidious Smithy had not been heard to utter the least complaint, but
had burrowed with the rest. Possibly he may have swathed his face, as
well as his body, in the folds of his blanket, in order to prevent any
roving spider from carrying out the gypsy's evil prophecy; but if so no
one knew it, since all of them but Allan and Thad had made separate
burrows.
The young scout master remembered that his thoughts became confused, and
then he lost his grip on things.
It seemed to him that his dreams must be wonderfully vivid, for as he
suddenly struggled up to a sitting position he could fancy that he heard
some one calling at the top of his voice. Then shrill screams in girlish
tones added to the clamor.
"What's that mean, Thad?" demanded Allan, as he clutched the arm of his
chum, at the same time sitting up.
"I don't know," replied Thad shortly. "There must be something wrong up
at the farmhouse. The other fellows are stirring now, so let's crawl out
of this in a big hurry, Allan!"
Both scouts made all haste to escape from the tunnel under the hay,
kicking their way to freedom. No sooner had they gained their feet than
they started out of the barn, for the haymow was under the shelter of a
roof.
Only too well did Thad know what was the matter, when he burst from the
door of the barn, and saw that the darkness of the night was split by a
glare from up in the direction of the farmhouse on the rise. Through the
bare branches of the trees he could see tongues of flames.
"The house is on fire, Allan!" he shouted. "We must get all the boys out,
and do what we can to fight the flames. Hi! everybody on deck--Giraffe,
Step Hen, Davy, and the rest of you, hurry out here and lend a hand!
You're wanted, and wanted badly into the bargain!"